


JeanMarco Week 2015

by Gootbuttheichou



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Era, JeanMarco Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4237857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gootbuttheichou/pseuds/Gootbuttheichou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>setting: CAGYL verse, either their junior year or senior year of college</p>
<p>unedited</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

> setting: CAGYL verse, either their junior year or senior year of college
> 
> unedited

“Is that all you have to say?” Marco asks, twiddling his thumbs slowly as he flicks his gaze over to Jean. The young man sighs, dragging a hand down his weary face.

“Yeah. I think so.” The brunet lets out a nondescript hum, and his freckled hand slowly takes Jean’s.

“I forgive you, you know. And I’m sorry.”

“It probably won’t be easy,” Jean mutters. “Just because we’re getting back together doesn’t mean the problems we broke up over have gone away.”

“No, it doesn’t mean that. But the fact that we want to get back together and _work_ things out seems to be a good indicator we’re at least taking a step in the right direction.” Marco offers a fond smile as Jean looks back up at him. “I missed you, you know.”

There’s a beat of silence before Jean squeezes Marco’s hand. “I missed you, too.” They stare softly at each other before they both lean their foreheads together to touch, and Marco’s breath catches in his throat.

“J-Jean…”

“Hey now, love,” Jean starts off, but he stops when he realises he let the old pet name slip. “Marco.” He brings his other hand up cautiously, watching for any signs of discomfort when he starts to caress Marco’s cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cry, sweetheart.”

“Jean…” Marco shudders as he nuzzles into the touch, and his free hand comes up to cup Jean’s cheek, his eyes screwed shut to hold back tears. “Jean, it was _really_ hard.”

“I know, baby. I know. It was hard for me, too.” Jean swipes his thumb over the tear tracks that have slipped free and down Marco’s cheeks. “Come on, now I’m going to start crying.” That only serves for Marco to wheeze, and before Jean knows it, his vision is clouding with tears as he presses his lips softly to Marco’s cheeks, tasting the salt of his tears. “Marco, baby, please. It hurts me to see you cry these kinds of tears, love.”

“I k-know, but now I- I just messed everything up again and made you cr-”

“Shh, don’t you say that. You never messed anything up, you hear that?” Jean strokes Marco’s soft black hair, then leans in to place his lips on Marco.

“I love you, Marco. I always have. I still do.”

Marco hiccups, but Jean can feel the faint traces of a smile form on his lips.

“I love you too, Jean.”


	2. Paint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> setting: some modern random AU where Jean and Marco met in middle school and are high school sweethearts who stuck with each other through undergrad and grad school
> 
> unedited

“We’re all set?” Jean wipes his brow as he stands back up, frowning down at the paint cans. “I didn’t expect this to be so heavy.”

“Oh, please. I’ve seen you bench heavier at the gym. Besides, you can lift me up!” Jean just pokes his tongue out at his boyfriend.

“Whatever, this paint is heavy, man.” He blinks when Marco tosses him a metal paint can opener and a hammer. “Oh, now I have to open this?”

“I got the tape set up, the roller brushers put together, _and_ put the drop cloths down! It’s your turn, love.”

“Fine, fine.” Jean grumbles, but the smile he has directed at Marco is nothing but loving as he starts opening the paint cans. “You look good, by the way.”

“Thought I always looked good,” Marco teases, and he jumps out of the way when Jean tries to swat him. “Careful, now! C’mon, I want to at least paint this wall before the sun sets!”

As the hours drag on, the temperature outside grows cooler and the sun starts to dip lower in the sky until the wall they’ve been working on is bathed in a beautiful orange glow.

“I knew this was a good color,” Marco says as he gazes proudly at their handiwork. “And look! No professional needed!”

“That’s what all those art classes and time in tech crew in middle and high school was good for, I guess,” Jean jokes. “Quick work, but neat and thorough.”

“Oh, don’t remind me about that, you used to always complain during lunch.” Marco smiles fondly at the memories as he looks down at the paint cans. “We’ll probably even have more left over once we’re done with this room,” Marco muses. “Could even finish the whole room and the first coat tonight if we really wanted.” He turns to look at Jean, his eyebrows arching in amusement at Jean’s expression. “What?”

“... I know we both agree it’s a good color on the walls,” Jean starts as he slowly points to Marco’s cheek, “but that color looks really good on you, too.”

“Oh, no, are you serious? I got some on me?” Marco raises a hand to feel, but Jean is too late to warn him of the paint staining his palm.

“... Well, you have _more_ on you now.” Jean grins as Marco glares at him, then recoils as Marco goes to poke his cheek.

“And now _you_ have more on you!” he grins, clutching his stomach in a hearty laugh when Jean feels his face.

“Oh, what the- I had- _Marco_!” He flinches when Marco drags the paint roller across his shirt. “Hey, I liked this!”

“It’s old and had holes and paint stains anyway. Take it off, it’s hot!” Marco demonstrates for his boyfriend by taking his own shirt off and rolling the paint across his body.

“You’re crazy.”

“It’ll come out! Besides, who said we weren’t going to shower together after this?”

The impromptu paint fight between the two young men leaves them shirtless, sweaty, absolutely _coated_ in paint and laughing on the floor once Jean has successfully pinned Marco down on the ground.

“Oh my god this is going to take forever to get out.”

“At least we didn’t get any on the carpets,” Marco laughs, but he’s cut short when Jean kisses him sweetly. “Jean-?”

“Marco Bodt. We’ve known each other for a long ass time, before we were even teenagers. I love you dearly, deeply, sincerely, madly, with all of my heart. I have for a long time. We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’ve remained strong through it all. And,” Jean says as he starts to pull something out of his pocket, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, loving you everyday and growing old together.” Jean clears his throat as Marco’s wide eyes are trained on the tiny black box he starts to open.

“Will you marry me, Marco?”

In the newly painted room of the townhouse they’re renting together, bathed in the dimming light of the setting sun; after knowing Jean for more ten years, and dating him for nigh on seven; and with a torso covered in paint and cheeks wet with tears, Marco cups Jean’s cheeks gently with his hands.

“Yes, Jean,” he breathes, and they seal the engagement with a kiss.


	3. Hand to Hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> setting: Jean and Marco's junior year in CAGYL
> 
> unedited

“ _Marco_!” Jean cries out as he dashes into the waiting room. “Nurse! I’m- where is Marco Bodt?”

“I’m sorry?” the nurse at the desk asks.

“I- twenty years old, six feet tall, one hundred sixty pounds, buff, short brown hair, brown eyes, freckles? He was in a car accident, he’s probably in surgery-”

“Oh, yes, I know who you’re talking about. May I ask who you are?”

“Jean Kirschtein, his boyfriend. His parents called me.”

“Ah, okay. Yes, he is in surgery right now, but if you’d like to have a seat here in the waiting room, we’ll keep you updated.”

Jean sighs as he runs a hand through his hair, but he nods at the nurse. “Thank you.”

“Dude, you okay?” Eren asks as he lays a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “You bolted in here like a madman.”

“I’m actually _not_ okay right now, you ass,” Jean grumbles, and Mikasa has a hand on both of their shoulders before Eren can shout back.

“Guys, come on. Let’s sit down, okay?”

“I’ll get coffee,” Armin says, and he glances at Jean before he walks off.

“Eren,” Mikasa says quietly as they sit down. “You should text Levi, let him know where you are.”

“Yeah, I did. He would come, but… you know how these things get to him. I texted Connie, too. He asks if you want him and Sasha to come over.”

“I let Annie know, too. She and the guys are wondering, too.”

“I… I don’t know. It’s going to be fucking crowded in here, don’t want to burden any of them.”  
“Jean, you know none of them will think it’s a burden,” Mikasa reassures him by squeezing his hand.

“Dude, try to go to sleep. It might be a while.”

“Maybe…” Mikasa squeezes his hand again.

“Look, I can tell you’re getting overwhelmed. Just try to go to sleep. We’ll keep everyone else updated, and one of us will stay here with you.” Jean lets out a tired sigh and leans his head on his friend’s shoulder.

“Thanks, ‘Kasa.”

\---

Several hours later, a doctor comes out into the waiting room. “Jean? Jean Kirschtein?”

“Jean, wake up.” Mikasa shakes her friend awake, and Jean immediately bolts up as Eren and Armin rise from their seats.

“Marco? Is Marco-?”

“He’s fine. Since his parents aren’t here yet, he can have up to two visitors in his room.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Armin asks, and Jean slowly nods his head.

“Uh… y-yeah. I don’t know-”

“I’ll go with you. Doctor, can our friends wait out in the hallway?” Eren watches with hopeful bated breath as the doctor flicks her gaze to Armin and Mikasa.

“... Yes. I don’t see why not.” They all breathe a sigh of relief as the doctor leads them through the doors to take them to the post op room.

“I’ll have to warn you all, he isn’t a pretty sight. The car T-boned him on the right side,  
and the force of the impact caved him in. Luckily, his head didn’t undergo too much damage, just a mild concussion. The right side of his face is bruised up, his clavicle and arm were broken, some bruised ribs, his hip bruised, and his leg broken. No internal bleeding, but we were able to set the bones and put pins in them.” The doctor gives Jean a grave look. “He’s going to be in a lot of pain. His limbs may not be the way they used to be, but with physical therapy, he should regain a majority of his mobility and continue to live a healthy life.”

Jean nods solemnly, and when the doctor opens the door, Eren and Mikasa have to hold their friend up from stumbling.

“Oh, Marco…”

“I’ll give you all some time. One of you is allowed to stay here overnight until his parents get here. Just press that button if you need anything.” The doctor leaves, and Jean sinks into a chair on the left side of Marco’s bed.

“Marco… sweetheart…”

Eren clears his throat and looks away. “I don’t know if I can be here for this. Reminds me of dad.”

“Really?” Mikasa pokes her head in, glances at Eren, then immediately looks away. “Oh…”

“Eren, Mikasa, if you need to leave, you can. I’ll stay here with Jean.”

“But-”

“Go home, Eren. Get some rest. See Levi. And Mikasa?” Armin takes her hand, urging her to look at him. “Go back to your dorm. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“... Okay.” Mikasa squeezes Armin’s hand, then leans down to kiss her boyfriend on the cheek before she turns to her brother. “Come on Eren, let’s go. We can come see Marco when he’s awake.”

Armin watches as his friends walk down the corridor, then he drags a chair up to sit to Jean, reaching out to rub his back.

“He’ll be okay, Jean.”

\---

When Marco wakes up a few hours later, Jean is laying with his head on the bed, his fingers carefully twined with Marco’s left hand.

“J… ean?”

“Marco?” Jean whispers, sitting up slowly and rubbing his eyes to find Marco staring at him. “Marco, baby…”

“Oh, good Mr. Bodt, you’re awake.” The doctor walks into the room, glancing over her notes as the nurse checks his vitals.

“I’m- w-what happened… the last thing I remember… I w-was driving… It h-hurts...”

“I’m glad to see your memory is working just fine. You were involved in a car accident. You have some broken limbs and bones and a mild concussion, but no internal bleeding. We’ve notified your parents, and they’re on their way. You’re going to be in a lot of pain, but we’ve got that under control.”

“Oh.” Marco clears his throat, then looks at Jean. “Jean, I’m… I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“No, baby, don’t be.” Jean reassures Marco by kissing his hand gently. “I’m just so glad you’re alive, love. It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah… it’s going to be okay…”

Jean continues to hold onto Marco’s hand as the doctor checks him and asks him some basic questions, then she smiles at the two of them.

“Everything looks just fine. We’ll be keeping him here for a few more days, and you’ll be under surveillance with the nurses checking on you every few hours or so. If you need anything, just press that button.” With a nod, the doctor and the nurse turn to leave, and Armin comes into the room with coffee once he’s let them pass.

“Hey, Marco,” the blond says with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

“In a world of hurt, but it could be worse.” Marco’s tired grin fades into a small frown. “You didn’t have to stay here on account of me, you know. I didn’t mean to cause any of you trouble.”

“You know it’s not a burden at all, Marco. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Mikasa and Eren were here earlier, too. And all of our friends were wondering if they should come.” At the look of mild alarm on Marco’s face, Jean pats his hand. “Don’t worry, we told them we’d keep them in the loop. Didn’t want the waiting room too crowded.”

“Speaking of which, I should text them all.” Armin pulls his phone out, then glances at the two young men. “I can still stay here if you guys want. Or if you’d rather be alone…”

Jean shares a look with Marco, then sighs. “Yeah, actually. Go home, Armin, get some rest. You’ve done more than enough. Thanks man.”

“Thank you so much for keeping Jean company,” Marco chimes in, and Armin nods before he leans in to hug the two.

“Alright then. Take care. We’ll all come see you tomorrow, Marco.”

“See ya.” When Armin leaves, Jean peeks out the door to see if any nurses are watching, then he gently climbs into Marco’s bed and kisses his left temple. “Baby…”

“Jean,” Marco breathes. “Jean, I- I didn’t even have time to think of what was going on when the car hit me, I-”

“It’s not your fault, Marco. I know you don’t drink or do drugs, you keep the music low, you get enough sleep, and you keep your phone in the glove box.” Jean continues to stroke Marco’s hand as he kisses his cheek. “It was some dumbass looking at their phone who ran a red light.”

“I could have- what if I-”

“Don’t say that, baby.” Jean fails to hold back the tears he’s been bottling up since he heard the news. “Please don’t. You’re here, you’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

“Okay.” Marco stiffly turns his head to kiss Jean on the lips, and Jean can taste the salt from Marco’s tears.

“Heh… you know, it’s going to be hard for you to write with that busted up hand of yours.”

“Don’t remind me,” Marco giggles. “I’m starting to wish I’d been born a left-hander. Or at least ambidextrous.”

Jean hums, and he can feel Marco stifle another giggle into his hair. “What is it?”

“You’ll help me walk, right?”

“Oh, definitely. How could I resist that pretty face of yours?” This sends them both laughing, but Marco coughs from the pain of his ribs and broken bones.

“Ow.”

“Careful, love.” Jean runs his hands through Marco’s hair. “Jeez, how morbid can we get, laughing over this situation?”

“At least we’re dealing with it in a healthy manner.” Marco grins at Jean, but his smile fades into a grimace as he shifts in the bed. “But we both need our sleep.”

“Yeah, you’re injured and I’ve been worrying my ass off over you.” Jean grins at his morbid joke, but it dies away at Marco’s expression. “What is it, babe?”

“Will you stay here?” Marco asks timidly, and Jean blinks at him before he leans forward to kiss him.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll even hold your hand the whole time.” Marco bites his lip as Jean starts stroking his hair sweetly.

“Thank you, Jean.”

“Of course.”


	4. Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> setting: modern AU where Jean is a retired US Army soldier suffering from PTSD and Marco... well, you'll see. 
> 
> unedited

“Jean Kirschtein.” The nurse smiles up at the young man as he averts his eyes. “You’re early. Doctor Ackerman should be with you in about five minutes.”

“Thank you.” Jean still finds it hard not to salute, but he tries to shake those thoughts out of his head as he goes to sit down in one of the uncomfortable chairs, grimacing as the pain flares in his leg. “Tch…”

“Marco Bodt?” The same nurse pokes her head out of the window, and Jean looks up from his phone as he sees the woman smile down at a man- Marco- in a wheelchair. “You’re early. Doctor Jaeger should be with you in about ten more minutes.”

“Thank you,” Jean hears the man say softly, and he’s unable to avert his eyes before Marco starts turning around in his wheelchair, only to bump into the wall. “Oh, s-sorry. Still getting used to this thing.” He offers a small smile to the people in the waiting room, but when no one returns it, his gaze drops as he starts to wheel himself to a waiting spot.

‘ _Not near me, not near me_ ,’ Jean recites in his head, and he mentally curses his luck when he hears the man maneuver his wheelchair into the empty space next to him. Of course, on the day he forgot his headphones.

“Hey there,” the man starts, holding a scarred hand out to Jean. “Name’s Marco Bodt. What’s yours?”

Jean’s eyes travel up from the left scarred hand, the scarred forearm, the scarred upper arm covered by a T-shirt sleeve, up to the scarred neck and-

“Damn.” Jean blinks with the realisation of what he just said after seeing the burned face, the eyepatch on the right side of his eye, the missing right arm and leg. “Oh, sorry, I-”

“Yeah, I know. It’s an ugly sight. Roadside bomb on my second tour. I was the only one who made it out alive.”

“Shit.” Jean offers Marco a sympathetic grimace as he shakes his hand. “Happened to me on each of my tours. Either the Humvee in front or behind ours.”

“Yikes. How many tours were you on?”

“Three. Retired now.”

“Wow.” Marco offers a small smile. “Well, thank you for serving our country- uh…”

“Corporal Jean Kirschtein of the United States Army.”

“Lance Corporal Marco Bodt of the United States Marine Corps. Pleasure to meet you, Jean.”

“And you too, Marco.” Jean glances down at Marco’s body before his gaze flicks back up to the warm brown eyes. “So, Afghanistan, I take it?”

“Yep. Went into Basic after I graduated college.”

“Ooh, a college boy.” Jean smirks at the brunet. “I went into Basic after high school, did one tour in Iraq. The rest were Afghanistan.”

Marco lets out a chuckle. “Yeah, Engineering. I guess I can go look into applying to grad school, now. Where were you stationed?” 

“Helmand Province my second deployment, Kandahar my third.”

“Wow! Just think, we were just a province away from each other.” Marco’s grin is almost infectious. “I was in the same districts, but Kandahar my first, Helmand my second.” His grin falls away as he stares at Jean intently. “So, were you planning on going to school?”

Jean merely shrugs. “I don’t know. It might have been easier for me to go once I was out of high school, but I probably lost all my study skills over the years. Plus it sounds hella expensive.” Marco offers a sympathetic nod.

“It is, but I’m sure you can do it.” There’s a beat, then Marco shifts in his seat. “So, do you like your doctor?”

“Levi? Yeah, he’s… interesting. Short and… kinda blunt. But he was a Navy SEAL. Sounds smart as hell and like a hard worker, majored in Psychology and went to a good med school. Yours?”

“Eren’s nice! His dad was an Army doctor and his mom and Army nurse, so he grew up in the military and medical life.”

“Well, that’s good.”

At that moment, the door leading to the doctor’s office opens up, and a short man pokes stands in the doorway and looks up from his clipboard. “Jean.”

“Hey.”

“Wait!” Jean turns around to watch Marco dig his phone out of his pocket. “Wanna exchange numbers? We’ll most likely be in the same group therapy, anyway.”

Jean stares at the phone, then grins at Marco. “Sure thing, man.” He punches his name and number in, then hands the phone back to Marco with a smirk. “I’ll see you around, Marco.”


	5. Tearstained Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, today I turn twenty!
> 
> setting: canon
> 
> unedited

“Marco…” Jean whispers the name for the thousandth time in a month. “Marco… tomorrow, I’m… we’re going outside the walls.” His breath catches in his throat as he rubs at his eyes. “I know it’s not what I originally wanted. We- you were planning to go into the Military Police, we would- w-we were supposed to protect the King, police the citizens, have a cushy life with nice meals and comfortable beds. We weren’t supposed to fight titans.” Jean tries to bring his voice down from a shouting level as he clenches his fists. 

“I… I can’t get the image of your corpse out of my mind, Marco,” Jean starts again. “Every second, every minute, every day… every night.” Jean doesn’t realise he’s threading a hand through his hair as he tries to keep himself composed. “The last time I saw you alive and breathing, I… I…” And it’s now that the tears that had been pricking at his eyes start to flow down his cheeks. “Marco, when was the last time anyone even saw you? You… you died alone…. I’m so, so so sorry, Marco.” 

The tears slide down Jean’s chin to drop onto the bone fragment and strands of hair wrapped in the insignia Jean tore from Marco’s uniform jacket before they carted him off to the pyre with the other dead bodies. “I… I can’t even tell if this bone fragment belongs to you, Marco. All I know is that you’re dead and gone and I- I-” Jean’s sob wracks his whole entire body as he curls in on himself. “I m-miss you Marco, I have n-no one to talk to, n-not the way we used to talk, I…” Jean leans down on his side, cradling the patch of fabric to his chest as his whole body shudders. “Marco, Marco, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” 

He lays there by himself until fitful sleep finally comes to him, and he drifts off into dreams of Marco’s corpse turning around to smile at him. 

“Marco…” 

“Jean.” The disfigured freckled face holds his remaining hand out to hold Jean’s. “So, big day tomorrow, right?”

“Marco, I- I’m sorry...”

Marco’s face falls as Jean starts crying again, and he squeezes his hand. 

“I know, Jean. I’m sorry, too. But it’s okay. You’re okay.”


End file.
